Siege of the Shadow Isles
by Tenrou Nogitsune
Summary: The Demacians have had enough of the looming threat eventually to come. Now they're taking the battle to the deathly lands to purge the undead. But the invasion was not left unforeseen. Though seemingly empty, the Shadow Isles are preparing for war. Through this war, two unlikely beings become intertwined. Thresh x Sona. Rated M for explicit content
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Here's an epic fanfic I'm writing with a friend (so all credit is not mine). There will be many pairings. The main pairing is Thresh x Sona. Hopefully this will hit at least 100k words. Main themes of the story will be Horror, action, and romance. This is rated M for gore, explicit language and sexual content. I will warn you in advance, that there WILL be death and incest. Please review if you have suggestions, or if you think my fic is good.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Riot or League of Legends**

* * *

_Chapter I_

The fog was thick, as the fleet of Demacian ships sailed across the water towards the mysterious place known to most of Valoran only as the Shadow Isles. Few ever set foot upon the shores of the archipelago, and fewer still ever lived to tell the tales of the place. But its touch could be felt across all of Runeterra, with its many enigmatic representatives in the halls of the League. But even so, it was a place of vile darkness, and was perhaps the single most potent threat to the peace of the world, greater even than the combined might of Noxus and Zaun. And so the Solari, and the Demacians had forged a pact in secret, to purge the place of its tainted presence. The fleet of armies glided forth silently across the water, lanterns lighting the way before they cast anchor and continued ahead on an armada of rowboats. Every which way were the faces of the famous alongside those of less renown, the Champions of the League, Heroes of the realm beside the average men who fought tooth and nail for their homeland. Jarvan the 4th, crown prince of Demacia led the way himself, Leona, pride of the Solari by his side as leader of the forces from Mount Targon. The Crownguard siblings were elsewhere, while Xin Zhao tried to stay near his prince. It was after all, his duty to protect him. Vayne was hidden somewhere amongst the soldiers, as well and even Fiora was attending this invasion, alongside the newly discovered Lucian, though the two of them seemed to have their own vendettas. Shyvana was with the shock-troops, securing the beachhead for them, and should be coming into view as soon as- bump. The bottom of her boat scraped up on sand, and Sona climbed out of it with the aid of a friendly faced man who seemed uncertain why the musician was even here. And the moment she started playing, it became clear. She was their one woman battle procession. The music she played strengthened the will of the men, helped them overcome the powerful, frightening aura of this dead land, as they secured the boats in place. The lanterns of the main ships could be seen through the fog, and it was time. They started their march inwards, ready to destroy whatever evils awaited them. Or so they believed.

A lone figure stood upon a cliff that spired above most of the beaches. The lithe figure stood stock-still as though he were a sentinel. His gaze rose over the the landscape, particularly among the waves. The ashen beaches usually were empty; not even crabs skittered across the sand, but today was different. The consistently stormy waters were dotted with lights from small boats. In the distance, massive battleships floated on the curling waves. This invasion to the harrowing lands of the Isles had not been unforeseen. As dead as the land seemed, preparation for war was amidst.

"Thresh, what do you see? How many have come?" hissed a pale, translucent apparition. A wraith. It hovered in it's spot while it awaited a response.

An almost otherworldly voice answered in a ghastly tone, "Might I remind you Aster, that I possess your soul?" His searing amber eyes flicked at the horizon before finally reporting, "A small force, likely just an expedition party if not just a landing force. But there are powerful souls out there. I sense them, crying in fear. Go, and inform Yorick. We will need more ghouls and mindless wraiths."

The moment the boats had landed, Vayne and Quinn had taken off to scout things properly while Shyvana reported to the Prince. Luxanna set about lighting the place properly, doing what she could to banish the fog and darkness, and bolster the spirits of the men, but the music of the mute muse was really more than enough to achieve that. The men were boisterous and loud, as the superb musician played, her fingers dancing and gliding across her etwahl, as she glanced about. She scarcely needed to look at the instrument she was bonded with to play it, so she took advantage of that fact to observe the land for herself.

It was cold, and desolate, and it felt drained, as if some malevolent force had sucked the very life out of the place. She understood now, the sort of place that those monstrous beings in the league came from. She at least held a bond with Karthus and Mordekaiser, through their love of music, but the rest of them... Evelynn, Elise, Yorick, Hecarim, and even those others of similar morality, she could understand the sort of place they called 'home'. It made her shiver as she continued playing while soldiers set up small camps, and barricades upon the beach, creating a fallback point just in case things went south, so to speak.

"Is something wrong Sona?" asked a patrol who had been pacing the perimeter of the temporary encampment. Until the majority of the force arrived, the Demacians would stay on the beach before venturing further inland.

The guard having resumed his vigil, only to be replaced by the visage of the very prince of Demacia, Jarvan the Fourth. Beside him, Xin Zhao stood in high alert, spear in hand, ready to protect his future king from the inhabitants of the island. He spoke up in a commanding voice, "How do thee fare, Sona?" Not waiting for a response, he continued, "The alliance with Ionia for this war seems to still be pending. Unfortunately, the natives of Kalamunda, Bandle City and the tribes of Freljord have all declined."

She could not respond to him, but she gave him a smile and played on stronger than before, as if to try and reassure him. The blue eyed woman cast her gaze around curiously as she tried to figure out just what was with this place.

She was startled out of her own thoughts by the voice of Jarvan, the leader of this invasive expedition, standing tall and imposing in his armor adorned by grisly trophies. She could not say anything, and was pleased when he continued onwards with the conversation. It made her feel saddened to know that Ionia was dragging its heels, but she could hardly blame them, still recovering from the brutal Noxian invasion. She was not surprised however, by Freljord, Bandle, or Kalamunda declining to join their crusade. She merely nodded slowly, continuing her battle march, her fingers gliding and dancing over the strings.

"I must go check in with the other champions and troops," said the Prince, dismissing himself from her presence. Xin Zhao bowed and left wordlessly with his leader.

Sona watched him depart, and continued, patrolling around the camp and letting her music be heard throughout the camp, smiling gently and bolstering the spirits of the men. So far, everything had progressed smoothly. So far.

* * *

"For what reason do you bother me, Elise? I have souls to torture and bind to my will," snarled the Chain Warden as he strode the winding road that lead up to his prison. He had sensed her awhile ago and the Spider Queen had been tailing him for a good ten minutes. He had nothing to fear from her, but the twisting words she spoke. As he walked, the hooks tied to the three white braids in his hair clanged, giving off an eerie sound.

Elise crept along in the shadows behind the chain warden, but it was impossible to keep hidden from a man who could torture the souls of the damned into doing his biding, and the Empress of Arachnids stepped from the darkness, her sensually build form clad in an outfit that left very, very little to the imagination, those spider legs perched from her back dangling like some sort of macabre fashion accessory for her, her crimson, blood red gaze upon him. A grin played across her deathly pale features, and she cocked her head to the side. "Come now, Thresh... we have an army of the living, naive and foolish, stepping upon the shores of our shadowy home, and you dawdle like this? I would have thought you to be on the front lines, eager to rip flesh from bone once more..." Her voice was sultry, and sensual, carefully measure to arouse a mortal man listening, but Thresh was no mortal.

Stopping in mid stride, Thresh turned to face Elise. Her outfit was provocative, but the wraith-like creature felt nothing from her. He growled, "Elise, this is not your home. You are alive, even if you come here to milk the venom from Vile Maw for your petty immortality, but this is not your home. The Shadow Isles are home to all that is damned." He let loose a cackle that would frighten any mortal with his wailing laughter. "Oh I'm not dawdling at all. I am merely retrieving more souls from my prison. The more I have, the more powerful I am!" The stitches at the corners of his mouth threatened to rip as he laughed. He began to walk forwards again, up to the fortress that was his prison. "We all have our duties, Elise. You should be hatching more gargantuan spiders. Mine is to give our 'guests' a welcoming party."

The Spider Queen rolled her eyes lightly at his words. "What am I, if not damned?" She asked, as she followed after him, a small swarm of spiders crowding around her ankles as she moved. "I have minions on the task, don't you worry your pretty head over it, Thresh. The spiders will be ready. Just you make sure that your duty is done properly. Don't get too carried away. No matter how damned you are, if your soul leaves your wretched body, it too will be caught in your own vile lamp." She warned, before she disappeared into the darkness, her silhouette warping into the shape of the spiders she had come to adore, as she made her way away from him.

"This conversation is over, woman," said Thresh as he phased through the cold stone walls of the stockade. The decrepit building was empty except for it's warden, though it sounded like a full house. He floated up to the second floor where a massive vault stood, containing thousands upon thousands of unfortunate souls. Holding up the strange lantern connected to his waist by a chain, the repository creaked open. The screaming souls that attempted to escape were pulled into the lantern. Now equipped with a near one hundred new souls, Thresh ported to the entrance to the Twisted Treeline, not far from the beaches of the main island. From the haunted forest, he watched the humans pitching tents and building fires.

Sona felt a chill flooding over her body, and she shivered suddenly, as if feeling a great disturbance, but she kept her music up and tried not to let anyone see her falter, what-so-ever. She smiled and gave some small gestures towards men or women who seemed particularly down. Her fellow champions were nowhere to be seen, as she let out a silent little sigh. They were all off doing something useful no doubt, while she was stuck merely boosting morale. Important job or no, it felt like there was something coming, something she wasn't equipped to face.

Grinning madly, Thresh saw there were seemingly no champion alert from this side of the beach. What a terrible mistake. Unhooking the scythe from his hip, the Chain Warden began to swing his weapon overhead as he neared the first encampment. "Cling-clang go the chains, someone's out to find you," he spoke in a spooky, echoing voice that filled the beach. "Come out, and play..." His heavy footsteps crushed the gritty sand as the fog thickened around the living.

Soon enough, the first guards came into view. As the guards became spooked, a scythe hooked into the neck of the hapless fool, removing his head from his shoulders. The arterial spray painted his comrade crimson. Before the second guard could scream in horror, the weapon swung back, cleaving him in twain. Two ethereal orbs floated out from the corpses, only to be snatched by the lanterns grasp. The two night watches now dead, the undead specter encroached on the rest of the camp. He called out, "Poor, lost souls..."

Sona saw the madman, Thresh, striding into the encampment and her heart skipped a beat. Where were the others? She had no idea, but she had to try and do something. She drifted forward towards him, her music growing stronger, before she focused the sound into a bolt of energy, lancing out to lash at him, before focused the power of her song to energize the movement of her allies. The mysterious magic of her music got to work. She would stand up to him, no matter what. She would do her part to protect these people, as a Champion of the League.

"Oh look here, the Maven of the Strings herself has come to greet me in the welcoming of Demacia's invasion," chuckled Thresh as he easily sidestepped the bolt of energy. Though her music reminded him...back when he was still living, the Chain Warden was unfazed. "You know, it's impolite to ignore someone when being spoken to," he said, unspeakable creatures of the night lumbering forth, engaging the humans in combat. Wary of Sona's ability as a champion, Thresh circled her, as if playing with prey.

She glared at him. He knew fully well that she was mute, but she launched another burst of powerful, sharp sound towards him, not backing down as she cast out another wave of energy, mending the wounds of her allies. She refused to falter in the face of this mad man. She drifted towards him slowly, circling him as she tried to shut out the noises of battle around her. The Chain Warden was not a foe to be underestimated. She cast out another shock-wave of sound towards him, wanting to drive back his assault before more men got hurt.

Flaying soldiers around him, Thresh cackled. Her music, while it stirred the soul, was not the best for direct combat. Dodging another bolt of sound, Thresh said, "Don't be that way Sona, your soul sings to me. You can speak, if not with your voice." He grinned. A though tickled his fancy as he said gleefully, "I want to find out how you tick. You are mine now~" Whipping the chain and hook in a circle around the human female, Thresh laughed madly. Then pulling in with a jerk, the chain tightened around Sona's waist. Then he began walking back inland, abandoning the battle. If she would not follow willingly, he would drag her back to his lair.

She did her best to resist the pull, struggling, clutching at the chain and pulling, trying to free herself from his clutches. The musician felt terror coursing through her veins, as she clutched her instrument, trying to conjure some sort of effect to stop him, trying to build up to a crescendo but she couldn't focus herself enough as he dragged her, her face twisted in a silent scream into the darkness of the island, the battle continuing to rage. No one noticed she was gone, until it was too late, and it was over.

"If only you weren't so vain in keeping your little secret, " chuckled Thresh as he dragged her over the sand dunes and through the haunted forest. In the Isles, travel was swift and illogical. Before long, he had dragged the flailing maiden to the threshold of his fortress. He plucked the etwahl following the Maven and cast a spell, causing it to fall to the ground; a sapping spell. He kicked the instrument into a corner as the door past they foyer slid open. "If only you had 'spoken to your allies, you might not be in my lair. A folly for a vain mute."

She glared at him in silence, arms folded under her ample chest. She refused to cooperate with the sadist, even as she was separated from her instrument. She doubted she could find her way back by herself, but she was not going to give up so easily. She had ensured what he could dish out in the matches of the League, she could withstand it here. She could not speak, and he knew it. he was just taunting her, trying to make her feel like the inability was her own failing, she simply chose not to, but she was not going to give in so easily, giving him a dismissive gesture, before turning away from him.

Snarling, Thresh growled, "You think just because you are a mute, you cannot communicate other ways? Don't make me laugh!" He threw her into a cell, spectral shackles chaining her to the wall. He laughed maniacally again and spat, "You communicate with summoners with your mind's voice. They know you your aren't just a dumb mute who can play music. Oh yes, I know your little secret. What's to say you just haven't been denying yourself? You are telepathic. Your soul whispers to me, giving me little tidbits about who you are. So much denial!" Thresh was worked up; Sona would be indeed, a beautiful soul to add to his collection. Now mere feet away from the busty minstrel, he tickled her chin with a pale finger. He sang, "Oh the eternity we shall spend together~"

**Hehe, how was it?**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Aaah, finally back to writing! Been awhile! Hope you guys n gals like the chapter!**

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_Chapter II_

"_Little is known about the mysterious Shadow Isles. An eternally thick, unnatural fog blankets the islands from the view of outsiders. It is thought that the islands are home to countless forms of undead, though no one seems eager to perform the exploration necessary to find out the truth._

_A year after the League was established, summoners were sent to explore a small portion of the isle and later, established the Twisted Treeline._

_"__Most of the Shadow Isles' history comes from the two mysterious altars of the Twisted Treeline, that says fragments of their history to its capturers and from the League records of the Shadow Isles' champions..." _

The aging tome was slammed shut as it's wielder was startled. Luxanna Crownguard jumped as she felt a heavy hand on her shoulder. She looked up only to find her older brother looming above in his heavy armor. He clutched her hand to her heart, saying, "Goodness, it's just you big brother. I thought it was a monster," she finished in a small voice.

A deep rumbling laughter erupted from Garen's chest as he said, "Oh Lux, you're still afraid of monsters when you're a champion of Demacia? You make me laugh sister." Garen Crownguard, the poster-boy of Demacia. He was the prime example of what it meant to be Demacian: valor, strength and the morals of the land. He helped his sister to her feet and said, "Researching about our enemies? Smart. I was never much into books myself."

A pout broadened on the magician's face as she laid the leather covered tome back onto a makeshift table and hugged her brother. "It's been a while Garen. I really missed you. Since you're always busy, I never get to spend any time with you. It's like Jarvan doesn't want us to be a family." A tinge of pink crept onto her face.

"Hush Luxanna," whispered the herculean built soldier, allowing his sister to lean on him. Garen gave a small smile, "He's not like that at all. It's my duty to protect Demacia. Jarvan needs us Crownguards to ensure the safety of the Royal family. Don't be so harsh on him."

Lux still pouted. Garen certainly seemed to be oblivious about the way she felt, but it was to be expected. Her big brother had always been too preoccupied being the best knight the Demacian army had in their forces, a shining exemplar of Demacia's might and prowess. They could stand and fight with Noxus, toe to toe, man for man. Garen's presence inspired the soldiers, arguably more-so than their own crown prince, which made her feel quite proud of her brother. She just wished that he would pay a little more attention to her. He was far too busy, especially these days for them to spend their time together like they used to.

"Brother... I'm not being harsh. I know there's a war, and I know we're soldiers. But even if war, soldiers need downtime..." She began, her voice slowly shifting to a playful little purr as she spoke, seemingly not too bothered by the unnatural fog rolling in, though that was in part due to her own magic being excellent at dissipating it, her light illuminating the area around them.

"Nonsense Luxanna," said Garen as he looked down at the petite woman leaning on him. "We have just begun our invasion of the Isles. We do not need a break yet. Besides, we haven't even launched the first attack." He suppressed a blush threatening to creep onto his face. His sister always seemed too friendly to him. He had thought at first that she was in love with him, but immediately dismissing the thought.

Before Garen could ask his little sister a daring question, a guard ran into the tent. His left arm was completely missing, and his remaining hand held a rag to the bloody stump. Panting he said, "C-captain! The first regiment was attacked! It...it was the W-Warden! He slaughtered everyone..." Tears were brimming at his eyes as he gave the last of the horrid news, "...and he took Sona!"

Lux gasped, first as her alone time with her brother was so rudely interrupted, but then as she saw the soldier who was now missing an arm. She wanted to retch, but she would be strong in front of her big brother, however she did turn pale. The Chain Warden had slaughtered the entire first regiment...? And taken the Maven of the Strings? This did not bode well at all. Quickly she was out of the tent, looking around for any signs of where Jarvan might have gone. He had to know, they had to mount a rescue of some kind against Thresh, they couldn't allow Sona to remain in his hands. She was a beacon of hope, of peace, for the Demacian forces and they needed her to reinforce the easily broken morale of the men.

* * *

The Warden sat upon a throne wrought of smooth stone. His mind was wracked with a familiarity with the woman he had impulsively kidnapped. In matches, he'd ripped her apart when she was on the opposing team. "What makes her so damn special?" he'd snap to no one in particular. "What separates her from the rest?" The wandering spirits would shy away from Thresh as he would gaze into his lantern. The souls that pounded on the ethereal glass of the lantern were screaming, hoping to escape. Why had he kidnapped the mute songstress in the first place? She could not speak by conventional means. Torturing her would not give him the satisfaction a normal human would give. Sona would not scream if he cut her open. Yes she would bleed, but her lack of being able to vocalize hr terror was apparent.

Sona had been bound in the Warden's castle, surprisingly unharmed though her body hung limply in her chains. She was exhausted, frightened, and wanted to rest but he had yet to actually lay a hand upon her, despite his apparent frustration though it seemed more with himself, than with her. She had no idea what he was doing, or why, but she was just grateful she had yet to feel the wicked agony of that hook digging into her flesh, here, where she wouldn't respawn if he decided he was bored with her.

Storming to his feet, he strode to the cell where he had thrown the woman. He glared down at her hatefully. He was seething; it was the first time he had been unable to read a soul. Normally, he could see a soul shrieking in his victim's chest. But no, this woman's soul refused to be seen. He wanted to hurt her and make her cry, but he knew he would not be satisfied. Instead, he knelt on one leg so that they were at eye level. Roughly, he held up her drooping head and said, "Did you know, the eyes are the doorway to the soul?"

She looked up at him with her vividly blue eyes, meeting his gaze and then blinking a little, her weary mind wondering just what he had said again, not having caught it. She tilted her head as if wondering just what he wanted from her. She knew how he operated, and this was not it. He tortured people to death as a way to idly pass the time, he ensnared their souls and used them to fuel his own evil power. What plans did he have for the Ionian born musician? It made no sense to her, not that much did right now, really.

The Chain Warden was about to slap her on the head as if to punish her for not listening as her confused expression exposed her poor listening, however his fury was pulled away as an echoing knock on the front of the door stole his attention. "I shall be back," he hissed. Slamming the cell door, Thresh sank through the stone floor down to the ground level where he stopped in the foyer. A decaying sense of energy was seeping between the hollows of the shattered windows. The door slid back, revealing who he had expected it to be: Karthus, the Deathsinger. Thresh, snarled, "What do you want of me, lich?"

The chattering of bone on bone would have sickened any mortal, but it bothered not the Warden as Karthus spoke, "Lord Mordekaiser has felt the soul of a living human further in from the beaches where he has allowed the living to land. He wishes to know why a living being is in your castle. Care to shed some light on that?"

"It is none of your concern!" he roared, wishing to return to his prisoner at once. At the relentless gaze of the robed, undead mage, Thresh said quietly, a soft tone unusual even for him, "I kidnapped an Ionian champion on an impulse. The woman stirs something within me with her music. Now begone with you!" He slammed the door as he rose back to the third floor where his prisoner lay. Karthus seemed to have left, if a huff of indignantly escaped his fleshless lips.

Sona cringed as she thought she was about to be struck by his gloved hand only to have his attention drawn away by something else, leaving the Maven there, bound in chains and relaxing if only for a moment. She felt uneasy in this place, as if death itself surrounded her on all sides, and was steadily closing in. And when she died, there would only be one place for her to go here... Thresh's lantern... a terrifying prospect indeed, making her tremble with fright, as she heard Thresh's bellow from downstairs. She tugged at her shackles weakly, as if hoping against hope they were somehow unlocked, though she knew it was useless.

Rising through the floor where the woman with twin ponytails was locked up, Thresh looked down at her. He held the etwahl in one of his hands and said, "I want you to play me something." He glanced at her warily and added coolly, "And don't even try to use magic. Those shackles will suck any magic. Mana is easily sapped." He was performing an experiment now.

Sona looked to him, very confused by his request. He wanted... music? She wasn't certain exactly what to play, but she did, playing something from Demacia, a hopeful march, something that might be played at a parade for the king, something to inspire the people. As she played it, she felt hope herself. She was going to be alright. The others would come and save her from him, she was sure of it.

Thresh closed his eyes, listening to the melody she played. It was somehow...soothing. It was as if he could feel his heart, the one he had surely known was gone. Normally all he heard was the wailing cries of spirits in agony. The only songs he heard were of the dead. It had been many years since he heard actual music. Perhaps, he was discovering a piece of his old self, before he'd died.

_"We've had it with you Warden," screeched one of the human prisoners. A mob of people had somehow broken out of their jail cells and were armed to the teeth with instruments of torture and death. The Warden, a tall tanned man with black braids was forcing an unfortunate prisoner in an iron maiden. Another prisoner in rags yelled, "The time is now at hand! It's time to end your tyranny!"_

_"What makes you think you can stop me from doing my job? I torture prisoners and I get paid for it. You're all in here for a reason. Now get back in your cells before I execute you!" yelled the Warden, brandishing a red hot poker._

_One of the bulkier prisoners had a collar and chain. He yelled, "Your reign of terror is over Warden!" The prisoners held their captor down on the floor, kicking and stabbing him. The largest prisoner clamped the collar and chain around the Warden's throat. The inmates drove the Warden back to the edge of a wall, tying the end of the chain to a hook and pushing him off, killing him instantly..._

Opening his eyes quickly, Thresh realized the music had stopped and was holding a hand to his heart. The Chain Warden glared at Sona, trying to wonder how her music affected him so. He saw hope in her eyes, and he felt the need to destroy it. He smirked and said, "They won't rescue you. You're nothing to them. You aren't worth the risk. Humans would not risk so many souls for the life of one woman."

If anything, his words made her more resolute, the music she played echoing louder off of the wall, as she met his gaze with a cold glare. They would come for her, Demacians never abandoned an ally in need. No matter the danger. Such was their honor, and she built it up to a deafening roar, her music amplified by some mysterious sound magic she seemed to wield that did not quite follow the normal laws. She made no attempt to harm him, or escape, but it was as if the music was screaming her open defiance of him, despite her fear.

In his fury, he slapped the instrument away, an urge to just execute her on the spot spiked. He'd lifted that wicked scythe overhead, but as he held eye contact with the Maven, he dropped the unholy instrument. A twisted grin replaced his hateful glare as he clipped the scythe to his waist. He bent down, smirking at her. "Relax, just let go," he chided. Suddenly, Thresh thrust his hand into Sona's chest. The hand sank into her flesh, though no blood blossomed. When he retracted his hand, a bright blue orb lay in his hand. It whispered to him, telling him how afraid and doubtful she really was. Green essence began siphoning off from his hand, the soul turning a bright teal. But when he tried to rip it from her chest and place the soul into his lantern, it shot back into her chest.

* * *

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU WON'T SAVE HER?" roared Garen as he gripped the collar of the Prince's clothing. A vein in the soldier's neck was pulsating in fury as he glared at Jarvan. "How can you just say that? You're abandoning a Demacian Champion and a friend? What kind of Prince are you?" Lux was hopelessly trying to pull her brother back, wishing he had not let his emotions get the best of him. A pair of royal guards pried the warrior from their future sovereign.

Jarvan's calm demeanor is not waver as he straightened his breastplate and crowned helmet. He spoke slowly and clearly, "Garen Crownguard, it was not my choice to abandon Sona to the wicked clutches of the Warden. The war generals and my father made the absolute order; we cannot rescue her. As much as I'd like to send a liberation front to rescue Ms Buvelle, we cannot. We must plan our moves rationally. You know what it means to be Demacian. We cannot risk so many more lives just to save one life."

"Still, it burdens my heart knowing Thresh has his scummy claws on Sona," said Garen, a hint of a growl in his voice. "She is my comrade and her songs boost the morale of our men. They are already spooked by the unnatural phenomena of this land. How will we keep them keep their courage in this nightmarish land?"

Rubbing a hand to his temple, the crowned Prince of Demacia said, "We may have lost Sona and the first regiment, but we still have a vast number of troops remaining. Though we have lost the Maven of the Strings, we still have musicians to lift the moods of our soldiers. They may not have the magical power Sona did, but it will have to do." It was beginning to become obvious how frustrated the Prince was becoming. "When our forces move inward, our first target will be Thresh's castle. It's quite a tactical vantage point. From here even, it looks like a fortress. We'll do what we can."

"Thank you Prince Jarvan," said Lux whom had been silent until now. "My brother and I shall go and await further orders." When he dismissed the Crownguard siblings, the luminescent mage dragged her brother off.

* * *

The Silent Songstress was clutching at her chest, a horrified expression glued on as she checked for blood. There was no mistake of the pain she felt when Thresh had pushed his hand into her ribcage. Yet there was no crimson blossoming from betwixt her breasts. Though she ached, Sona seemed to be untouched. _"I seem to be alive. He...didn't take my soul," _she said to herself.

"I couldn't take your soul," said Thresh curiously. He had been aware Sona was physically a mute, yet he had just heard her speak. Was it a magical effect? "I was going to just examine your essence, but it would not come free. But that is not as interesting as what now lays before me. You were supposed to be a mute, only form of communication was writing. But just now...I heard you 'speak.' Like directly into my mind. Perhaps just like a Summoner projects their mind into ours during a league match?"

_"__I...yes...just like a Summoner. But I don't understand this at all," _whimpered Sona as she tearfully looked up at the malevolent visage of Thresh. _"I was supposed to only be able to interact with others using my music or writing. B-but somehow...you can hear what I wish I could say. Even my adopted mother has never heard my mind's voice. How is it possible you can hear me?" _

Placing an uncovered hand on the Maven's cheek, the Chain Warden responded, "I know not the specifics, but I may believe, that in a way, we are connected. I have tortured souls for many a moon and I have come to a level of understanding on how they work. I theorize that when I touched your soul, I inexplicably opened mine to yours; in that occurrence, I believe with some doubt that I have created a link between us."

Petrified with fear, Sona gasped, _"Y-your're mad!"_

"Me, mad? Haha, quite likely," cackled Thresh.

* * *

**So how was that chapter? So terribly sorry about the long wait. I had a horrible case of the insidious virus known as...WRITER'S BLOCK! Anyways, a couple reviews would be lovely!**


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